Music Recommendation: Camila's Theme by Roque Banos
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"What shall I do without you," asked Calhoun. His eyes moved back up to look into his mother's eyes.
"You will be alright. I know you will miss me," she tried to reach for his head, wanting to touch his head for one last time, but at the same time, she started to cough, and her breathing turned laboured before more blood spilt out of her mouth.
"Don't talk. Rest, you might feel better," but by her expression, Calhoun understood that his words had been dismissed by his mother. "It won't be the same without you."
All Calhoun had known was his mother, and she had been the only person in his life to take care of him without a doubt. The rest were the people whom he didn't care about, and they didn't exist in his world.
Calhoun pulled the clean handkerchief from his pocket, and he wiped the blood that had smeared around his mother's mouth—cleaning it, but his mother only spilled out more blood. It looked as if her body wanted to finish every single drop of blood that was in her body and would only then let her rest.
"It will get better," her hand slid down, and she looked at Calhoun with her tired eyes. "Like the rest of the things, you will learn to overcome everything. There is nothing you cannot do, Cal. You are my son. One day you will overcome this sorrow, and the pain and hurt that you have felt. They will all disappear like they never existed."
"But you won't be there with me," Calhoun's voice was low and hardly audible, but Constance understood his emotions.
"You don't know...that," breathed Constance, "You aren't alone, Cal. You will have someone who will be your family. And that person will help you to grow not only the family but also you. To fill the spaces. And then you have your gran-"
Constance's body started to spasm, making it unable for her to finish her sentence.
Calhoun then heard something his mother said that he never imagined she would say to him, "Cal...please...I d-don't think I can take it any longer."
His mother's hand slipped away from his hands, and her body started to shake uncontrollably with blood coming out of her mouth. His hands clenched into fists as he watched his mother's life slipping away from her. It hurt him, seeing her like this and the words that she spoke slowly started to sink in his mind. The medicines didn't work, and letting her be like this, it was only prolonging her pain and misery.
He moved closer to his mother, putting his hand around her back and raising her as if to sit on the bed. He wanted to see his mother look into his eyes, for one last time, to smile and talk to him, but Constance's eyes had turned unfocused, and she looked as if she couldn't see or understand what he was going to say anymore.
Calhoun needed a moment to prepare himself, and he closed his eyes.
When he had brought the medicines, he returned home with the thought that his mother would get better...and not die today…
When he opened his eyes, he saw the red liquid continue to fall on the bed, and he raised his hand, "Rest well, mother…"
Within the next second, Calhoun's hand pierced through Constance's chest to stop it from beating any further and adding more pain into her life. A tear slipped past his empty red eyes while he carefully handled his mother's heart without putting much pressure into it, and the heart that he was used to hearing beat, stopped.
Retreating his hand back, Calhoun carefully placed his mother back on the bed, silence filling the room along with the darkness that started to fill in his heart.
His mother, whom he looked at as a strong woman as she had raised him with care, not paying attention to mistreatment from the villagers and focussing only on his well being. She now looked fragile, her cheekbones had turned hollow along with the dark circles underneath her eyes. Calhoun didn't know how long he sat next to his mother, watching her face after he had closed her eyes.
Nobody usually entered the home he and his mother lived in, but someone entered, which Calhoun didn't pay attention to until the person called him,
"Calhoun?"
It was Theodore who had arrived at Calhoun's house to pick up the clothes that he had lent Calhoun to wear for attending the soiree. He had also come here because he was curious to know where Calhoun lived. A deep frown had appeared on his forehead because of the scent of the blood that surrounded the house.
Theodore's eyes widened when he noticed Calhoun sitting on the floor and in front of a woman who was evidently dead because of the blood on the sheets and her clothes. He noticed the indentations on the woman's chest, as if someone had dipped their fingers. His eyes fell on Calhoun's hand that was covered in blood.
He would have been surprised by the death that had taken place if he hadn't known Calhoun had been making visits to many physicians' houses to find out what was wrong with his mother. It seemed like the tipping point had arrived, and there was no way to drag the time anymore, thought Theodore to himself.
An hour passed, and Calhoun didn't move from where he sat, and Theodore silently stood behind him.
Calhoun turned his head to the right, feeling Theodore's presence behind him, and he said, "You don't have to stay here."
"I am aware," answered Theodore, "But you need to let her rest. In a better place."
At first, Calhoun didn't respond, instead, he continued to sit in the same position, staring at his mother. He then said, "I know a place to keep her."
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The hiatus book has been updated-
The Fourth Mistress...(previously titled as 'The girl in the...')